My dad is going to ground me for life! As I sat there screaming and talking into my pillow, realizing that he was definitely going to find out one way or another. Sitting there in my bed, contemplating the dumb choice that I had made the previous night, realizing how stupid the idea was. There was no way that I could’ve hidden in the fact that I crashed his brand new Harley Davidson motorcycle right into the neighbors mailbox. Luckily the neighbors were on vacation in Florida so they had no clue that it had happened. The red flashy numbers 2,7, and 8 cracked onto the pavement as shards of plastic from the mailbox flew everywhere as I relive last night. The motorcycle dented, scratched, and headlight blown out he was gonna murder me. The smooth, shiny, metallic exterior on the front covering the wheel was no longer in brand new condition. The motorcycle sat there in the garage with the kickstand bent just enough where it balances on the side of falling down.

I have no clue what compelled me last night to think that I could casually drive a motorcycle, but whatever it was must’ve been a demonic force. I wanted to flaunt my dad‘s new motorcycle to the cool kids down the block and I heard that they were having a block party so I had the grand thought Of driving it down the block. At first I went to just inspect the motorcycle and to see if I could even accomplish the random thought I had. It looks pretty simple, kind of like a bike! As I mounted the motorcycle it felt just like a heavier shinier version on my bike. Granted I’m not the best at riding a bike, but I know the general idea of how to do it. I figured since the kids down the block were only around six House is down and it was all downhill I wouldn’t even have to start it. As I rolled up the garage door and carefully rolled the motorcycle out I thought I had the hang of it. About 30 seconds later this proved to be extremely false.

As I picture the motorcycle sitting in the garage with the kickstand holding it barely upright I hear the garage door start slowly rolled open. With each creek and crack it sent through the house I was prepared to hear a loud, deep, holler come from my dad’s mouth. This is where I get grounded for life… “WHAT ON GOD EARTH HAPPENED HERE??”